


Who's Eating Archie Johnson? (Who, Who, Who, Who?)

by sirius



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Crack, Crack Pairing, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius/pseuds/sirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written in 2007 and contains sexual content, character death and general zaniness.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Who's Eating Archie Johnson? (Who, Who, Who, Who?)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2007 and contains sexual content, character death and general zaniness.

When the alarm goes off, Archie Johnson hits it. There's no time for the snooze button and so he burrows ineffectually for a minute or two and then, like any normal person, forces himself to wake up. He sits up, rubs his eyes and yawns. 

He goes to the bathroom, then to make himself some coffee.

This would all be normal behaviour, were the sun shining through the blinds, were there cars on the road, doing the school run, going to work. Normal seven-am in Las Vegas. It's not normal behaviour because it's nine-thirty in the evening. Archie sees seven-am from the other side and like all the abnormal people on the graveyard shift, he feels something like a vampire.

It was, oddly, more difficult when he had a girlfriend. The longest relationship he's ever had: just over a year. He can bring himself to get up when there's no warmth in the bed besides his own. Having a girlfriend made him late for work. Being late for work meant overtime. Overtime meant, very suddenly, not having a girlfriend. His life is complicated and he isn't actively looking. He doesn't have time to give anyone else.

He steps into the shower. It's just unfortunate, the lack of a girlfriend, because he really, _really_ misses the sex. He takes care of it himself, mildly irritated by it, functional, not thinking.

The drive to work is quiet, because the roads get deserted once the casinos fill up, and he's a little lax with the speed limit. It's something he does when he's mad and he's lucky not to have been caught. He can only imagine Ecklie's face. It's pathetic, really. Archie isn't sure he could afford to pay a speeding ticket. 

When he gets to work, there's a buzz in the department which he's used to and so he walks straight past it, nodding at Nick, at Warrick. They'll come to him with the juicy details later. His job is relatively laid-back – it doesn't involve victims or families or contact with the killers, the abusers. It's simply deciphering human behaviour recorded on a screen. Working with clues. Stripping away noise to get to the crucial nugget of information. It's code work, and he's good at it, and he appreciates the quiet it affords him. 

The lab quietens down and he assumes that the teams have left to haul back the drunks and the criminals, so he gets on with the backlog of jobs he's been asked to do. Most of it is simplistic. The toughest thing he's ever had to do was to isolate sound recorded on the curves of a newly-formed clay pot. Everything paled into comparison after that. Isolating vehicle registration plates, watching hotel elevator footage – sometimes he thinks that a monkey could do it. 

He's just cracked the elevator conundrum (the guy got into the girl's room with an extra room key, probably obtained by feeding an overstaffed desk employee a line about losing his own) when scuffles are heard from down the corridor. Everyone is uptight after what happened to Nick, and they look up curiously. Archie can hear Grissom's voice and he knows that means they've caught someone on whatever case was hot tonight. The department is walled with glass and he's prepared to see the long, angry walk of the accused, the gestures, the yelling, the struggling. It makes him glad that he doesn't have to deal with the criminals outright. So as the noise gets closer, he makes a point of keeping his head down and going on with his work. 

Curiosity gets the better of him in the end and he glances, just once, as the noise passes. Armed officers are hauling a man much tinier than they are into one of the rooms for questioning. He's tall but not very broad, and their hands are hard and rough. The man is making a lot of noise. He has dark eyes, long hair and a very loud voice. Archie is intrigued. The man doesn't look like he'd hurt anyone. There's something soft about him, for all the yelling and the wriggling. It occurs to Archie that, alarmingly, the man looks something like his ex-girlfriend. He shouldn't be surprised by anything in this job. The man is Asian, possibly Japanese, Archie isn't sure. And pretty. He's pretty. As much as any guy can be. Unfortunately, he's also covered in blood. There are odds, in the department. Being covered in blood means that all the bets go off. Archie screws up his face, a bit disappointed. It always pisses him off when innocent-looking people do shitty things.

The man looks back at him through the glass, and Archie guiltily looks down at his keyboard. The man's eyes are very big, and dark. His mouth is parted, big lips, wet. It won't pay for Archie to think on that.

 

It takes the department almost forty-five minutes to find a translator. They pester Archie first, which disgusts Grissom when he finds out, because everybody knows that Archie is Chinese-American. It's not hard to find anyone in Vegas, and with their translator in tow, Brass is able to conduct an interview with a calmer suspect.

“We're just talking, at this stage,” he says. 

Akanishi Jin just looks at him. “I didn't do anything,” he's translated as saying.

“How do you know that, if you don't remember anything?” Grissom points out.

“I know that I wouldn't...have done that. There's no way.”

“So what you're saying,” Brass says, ominously. “Is that someone else broke into your hotel room, killed the man you were in there with, smeared blood all over you and then escaped?”

Jin just shrugs. “I don't remember anything. I don't know what happened.”

Brass sighs. “Throw us a bone here. Come on. You're covered in blood, in cuts and bruises, and that's gonna be your excuse? The court will love that. We wanna help you.” He leans in close. “But you gotta help us. You got that?”

Jin sighs, harder. “How am I supposed to help you if I don't remember?”

Grissom holds up a hand, there. “Tell us about your relationship with the deceased.”

Jin thinks. “We've known each other since we were younger. In Japan, we're in the entertainment industry.”

This throws Brass for a loop. “What part of the entertainment industry?”

“Music,” Jin says. “We're in separate bands. We never really got on. He was a poser, an idiot. And he thought I was stupid and beneath him. We just kinda ignored each other, mostly.”

Brass is smirking at Grissom, whose face is impassive.

“Huh,” Brass says. “That figures(!) Someone you ignore, mostly, winds up dead in a hotel room you're both staying in. C'mon now. What gives?”

“I hadn't finished,” Jin says. “We did mostly ignore each other, until we got to know each other better. He...we're the same kind of person. We both...have a lot of anger.”

“Anger?”

“Not anger – no. Force. We like it rough. We scratched an itch, both of us. It was something we did. We never liked each other but there was attraction there and even though he was an idiot, I liked his company and I liked having sex with him.”

Brass is momentarily stunned. He's aware that he shouldn't be, but he is. “Okay,” he says. “So what were you doing in Vegas?”

“I was in L.A,” Jin says. “Studying. He came to visit me, uninvited. Said we should go somewhere. We picked Las Vegas because it wasn't far and it looked like fun. It was just for a couple of nights.”

“How did you get here?” Grissom asks. 

“Car. His car is in the car park.”

Grissom nods. The team he's left behind will figure that one out, get it towed in.

“We went to the casinos, lay some money down. He likes to do that. Then we went back to the room, drank some champagne. We must've done it. I don't remember anything else.”

“Was it rough?” Grissom asks. “Do you remember that?”

Jin can't help it. His lips quirk. “With Matsumoto Jun? It was always rough.”

 

Archie isn't surprised when Nick bustles in with a tower of video tapes. “Your porn collection?” he quips. 

Nick frowns at him. “Hotel surveillance footage. You've heard about the whacko who offed his...friend, boyfriend, whatever? We need to prove he was the only one in the room, all night.”

Archie takes the tapes. “They were in the Penthouse suite?”

“Yeah,” Nick exhales. “Nobody else should be on that floor. Makes our job easier, huh?”

Archie nods. “You like this guy for it?”

“Yeah, man. I don't think anybody else was there. They have a screwed-up relationship, he's covered in his blood. Doesn't look good for him.”

“Man, who'd go to the most expensive room on the block just to off someone.”

“Tell me about it.” Nick says. “The blood tells the story. All bets are off.”

Archie chuckles. “I might go home, then.”

“Hey,” Nick retaliates, planting the tapes down. “Don't you go slacking on me. Alright? I'm having enough trouble with 'Rick.”

Archie rolls his eyes. “Yes, _boss_.”

 

The hotel footage is amongst the dullest video Archie's spent hours watching. Most hotel surveillance isn't bad because it tells small stories, people getting in and out and arguing or sulking or happy or sad. The body language, even in 30 second increments, is interesting to him. The problem with the Penthouse suite is that nobody goes up there and so, there's hours and hours of blank, empty footage. 

The two men in question appear on the tape, February 24th, 11.35pm. Archie sits up and slows the video down. The other man isn't tall, but he has a weird way of looking it. He's wearing black, expensive clothes. His hair is curled, black. His eyes are big, black. He looks more of a thug than their suspect. He's arrogant, a sharp nose, a high-held chin. The suspect is looking at him. They've been arguing; the atmosphere is tense. They both have folded arms and glowers. The looking continues. Slowly, their eyes meet. With a slam that makes Archie jump, they're together, in the centre of the lift. It's a battle for domination, anyone can see that, only it's not fists in face but lips and teeth and hands in hair.

Despite himself, Archie coughs. It reminds him of the sex he attempted to chase with his girlfriend. She wasn't overly keen and it's not the sort of thing men can push, so he let it go. But the footage reminds him of the wanting of it and he wishes that the flight to the Penthouse wasn't so painfully long. By the time the elevator pings, they're plastered against the wall, Jin with his back to it, the other man pressing hard. As they make to move, Archie notices that the man's hand is between Jin's legs and he's rubbing hard enough to hurt. It does hurt, by the look on Jin's face. Archie feels, not for the first time, terribly intrusive.

And, despite his best intentions, aroused.

The man is carrying a champagne bottle in his hand. Archie makes a note of it; they didn't order room service. It rules out the chance of some demented waiter taking offense at their homosexual antics and killing one of them. Weirder things do happen. 

The footage goes back to being blank, and dull. He watches it until the feed reaches February 25th, 11.35am. Jin enters the elevator, covered in blood and obviously dazed. His eyes aren't focused and he's wearing the same clothes he was wearing the previous night. He rides the elevator to the ground floor, and walks out into the world. 

Room service rides to the Penthouse suite at 2.15pm. The woman is back in the elevator, obviously hysterical, at 2.20pm. There follows a stream of hotel employees, but no police. The police come at 8.35pm. Archie makes a note of this, too. Then, at 10.15pm, Archie watches as his team board the elevator. There's nothing after that that's interesting, and he can't help but feel that he's only finding the fringes of the story. Normally he's glad of it, but something about the case makes him feel frustratingly ignorant. 

Jin reminds him of someone. And Archie can't help feeling that, had he been in the elevator with him, he'd have been that other man. It's not something he's considered, not since college. Working so hard and so long allows him the luxury of not considering. He has girlfriends as and when. This helps him not to consider. He's not attracted to any guy in the department. This helps him not to consider. Criminals are criminals. They're not attractive, ever. That's the rules.

Except, apparently, this one. Archie sighs, and pages Nick.

 

Nick isn't massively impressed with the complications Archie has uncovered and goes off to talk to Grissom about possible negligence on the hotel room's part. Grissom has Sara out trying to track down the couple in the room directly beneath Jin's, and he's glad of the extra input. Unlike the rest of the department, Grissom doesn't fancy Jin for it, finds it all too strange, and he's glad of Nick's skepticism. 

With no more jobs pressing, Archie takes himself and his cell 'phone home. It's four-thirty, which is earlier than he gets out most of the time, but he's fully expecting a call at seven-am when they find something else for him to decode. It'd be good to go and get some breakfast; he didn't feel like eating when he first woke up. Archie is grateful that Vegas has diners that operate all hours. 

In the locker room, he grabs an apple from his locker and takes his jacket from the hook. The locker-door is wide open and Akanishi Jin must think it's something of a protective barrier because he darts around from the other side, making Archie jump.

“Fuck,” he exclaims. “Hey, you're...”

“Sssh,” Jin says. And then, in really terrible English, “they'd find me.”

“I hope so,” Archie says. Bizarrely, he isn't afraid. Jin seems to him to be the most incapable killer. He makes to leave and Jin latches onto him. Archie turns back, a quirked eyebrow.

“Look, you shouldn't be here. Just go back. They'll find you anyway, man. I'm not getting involved.”

Jin frowns, not comprehending. When Archie makes to leave, he understands that, and clings to him harder. Archie makes an attempt to shove him away and Jin wets his lips, looking up at him with big, dark eyes. He's afraid. Archie looks into his face and sees it, instantly. Afraid and alone. He thinks, for a second, what it means if this guy is innocent. He has no friends or family here to support him. He can barely even understand what's happening to him. It might be that Archie's a bit soft, or that Jin looks like someone he used to know, but he feels pity for him. 

And, not a small amount of lust.

He closes the door. “You have to go back,” he says, despite himself. “I can't be seen in here with you.”

Jin doesn't know who Archie is, but he knows that he looks official. He might be able to help him. Without Johnny or Kame or Koki he's lost here and he doesn't know what happened to Matsumoto Jun, he really doesn't, but he doesn't want to go to prison. Everything feels frightening and sad to him right now. He misses Jun's sense of humour and his way of making big things feel so much smaller. Perhaps he can do Archie a favour. Archie looks like Kame does; uptight, irritable, sexually-starved. Jin smirks, a little, and slides to his knees.

“Huh?” Archie says. “No, you have to leave. Go back to...Grissom. You can't just. You're a suspect. I shouldn't even be _talking_ to you.”

Jin raises an eyebrow. He _isn't_ talking. He's opening Archie's jeans. 

Archie's jaw drops open. “Fuck, no, that...no. That's not. I'm not a policeman. I can't...you can't curry favour, man. It doesn't work like this here. Jin? Jin, man, you gotta...”

Jin isn't listening. Archie thinks about it: it'll be over quick, nobody will find out. He wants more than anything to feel Jin's lips on his cock. He's twitching in anticipation already. Nothing in work is the same anymore. Nick got kidnapped, Warrick reacted by getting a shotgun wedding. Ecklie won't give him any more overtime than he will respect and the rent is starting to stretch. There's no way out. No way of making anything easier except the strain in his jeans. He's starting to wonder what the point of it all is. He could die tomorrow. Seize the day. It'll be over fast, nobody will find out.

The thrill of rebellion only makes him harder. Jin is smiling, now, triumphant. He seems to understand the urgency in the situation and his first few licks are tentative, but only the first few. He watches through the door, the people passing, oblivious. Then, he swallows the head, rolling it around in his soft, wet mouth. He watches the effect, the one he likes best, as Archie's head tilts back and his lips part and he begins to breathe, hard, rhythmically. His hands find Jin's hair and begin to tangle as Jin's tongue explores, flat then pointy, soft then swiping. One of Jin's hands is on the lockers behind them. The other lightly scratches Archie's hip. Archie seems to enjoy this, increasing the pressure on his fingernails, making Jin moan in his throat. His hips are starting to buck so Jin takes him down further. The moans get rougher, harder, like grunts. Puffs of breath laced with lead. Jin's smiling around him and Archie's eyes are narrowed, his pupils unfocused.

Archie reminds Jin of Kame. He fights everything that feels good to him. Jin fights nothing that feels good, he chases it all. Chases it until he runs out of energy. Sates himself on it. He likes to have his mouth full. He likes to have someone pushing into his mouth, forceful and hard, dominating the pace. He lets Archie fuck his mouth because Jun used to fuck his mouth, because Kame would fuck his mouth if he had the balls to do it. He lets Archie tug on his air because Jun used to do that. He listens to Archie grunting because Jun did, too, only Archie's has an unfamiliar twang and Jin loves the sound of the English he doesn't entirely understand. 

“Harder,” Archie stutters, and Jin understands that one and obliges. He plasters Archie up against the locker with his hands, holding his hips against the cold aluminum. His eyes are wicked and try as Archie might, he can no longer force it. He makes a rugged groan that Jin seems to love, leaning in closer and taking it all so that his nose taps Archie's belly. Archie has forgotten to keep checking, but Jin does, and nobody even looks twice at the closed door. He looks back, up into Archie's eyes, and purrs softly. That does the trick and Archie grabs his hair, again, almost whining through gritted teeth. Jin realises that he's being cruel and that the longer it continues, the more dangerous it gets. He can feel Archie twitching in his mouth and he's merciful, eventually, so he hums in the back of his throat and tightens his mouth and bobs his head. He does it until Archie's panting very, very quickly and then he knows it's inevitable. Raising his hands, he lets Archie go hell for leather because it's what Jun used to do and he _loves_ feeling that wanted. Archie is the same – he gorges himself on it, until he comes, hard and quick in Jin's mouth. There's no time to warn him, but Jin knows, anyway. He swallows, pleased. He likes that there wasn't time to warn him. He likes the urgency and the need and their inability to communicate. It makes him feel _needed_.

Archie's skin is warm and wet, he lies back against the lockers, panting, eyes closed. His cock is softening and Jin tucks his t-shirt over it. He's grinning, despite himself. Archie lazily makes an effort to do up his jeans and Jin stands, taking the apple in Archie's locker and biting into it. 

Archie looks at him with lidded eyes. “You gotta go back.”

Jin shrugs and says “I know.”

“I can't hide you.”

“I know.”

Archie nods. He feels slightly like he's used Jin and it shows on his face. “You shouldn't have. Done that.”

“I didn't do it so you'd hide me.”

Archie looks at him. Jin looks truthful, but there's no way of knowing for sure. It hits him, the reality of what he's done. Jin could be anyone at all. He could do anything to Archie, in his vulnerable state. He's not afraid, but he's aware that he needs to sort out his life. To stop spending his life watching people on video tapes rather than talking to them across tables, in bed, on the 'phone at midnight. To stop spending his life listening to people have sex on cassette, rather than deciphering the breath of a girlfriend as he thrusts into her. To stop translating the worthless lives of worthless people and start having a life himself. 

He's seen enough loneliness on videos and heard enough emptiness on cassettes to satisfy himself for a lifetime. He goes home to nothing, wakes up to nothing. There's nobody. Nobody but people in 30-second increments, having emotions on his behalf. 

“Why did you do it?” he says. 

Jin thinks, for a second. “Why does anyone do anything. To be less alone.”

 

Archie walks out of the door and motions to Grissom, and then the locker room. Grissom seems to understand and calls Brass. Archie doesn't really have anything more to give, so he sighs when Nick trots up to him, brandishing CDs. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he's saying. “I've got something I need you to do.”

Archie nods, wordlessly. “What are these?”

“Oh, man, you're never gonna believe this.” Nick is grinning and despite himself, Archie can't help but be curious.

“Believe what?”

“This guy is _huge_ in Japan. This is all the stuff Sara hauled in from the couple on the floor underneath the Penthouse. Turns out they weren't a couple. There were two of them, girls from L.A. The hotel was crawling with them. They follow him around everywhere.”

Archie looks incredulous. “What, is this guy the Emperor or something?”

“Close,” Nick is impish. “He's in a boyband.”

“Oh, man.” 

“Yeah. You gotta see some of this stuff.”

Archie isn't sure he wants to. “Do I have to?” he says. “I'm sure that Greg would _love_ this job.”

Nick laughs. “No, sorry – I'm too cruel. And I'm coming with you. I can't pass this up.”

“If he's that famous,” Archie ponders. “He's gonna get off with this. They always do.”

Nick turns thoughtful. “Yeah. His backers are worth a bomb. He'll get off.”

Something about that, however wrong it is, is comforting. 

 

Four hours later, they get word that some guy called Johnny Kitagawa is on his way to see Grissom. Nick and Archie are camped out with breakfast before a colourful variety of performances, most of which have stunned them into silence. 

“I think this is his true crime,” Nick says. “This is definitely the one he should get locked up for.”

Archie chuckles. But he feels, for the first time in ages, honest. “You ever get tired of this job?”

Nick's eyes are dark and inexpressive. But there's a weight on the word 'yeah'.

 

Four months later, some guy called Johnny Kitagawa hasn't let Jin forget the fortune he spent wrangling the legal system to get him out of America. He says he doesn't want to know what happened between he and Jun. He says it's lucky that he owns Arashi so that they can't sue. He's not sure whether he can put Jin back in the band. 

Conversely, Jin is positive and sees it as a moment to honestly consider his options. 

Kame speaks to him for the first time in four months. “Why were you with him?”

“I was lonely.” 

“You could have called _anyone_.”

Jin sighs. “He turned up. He's not the job. Everyone else is the job. I'd have called Koki, but you wouldn't have let him come.”

Kame thinks about this and says nothing.

Jin continues. “Don't you get tired of being the job?”

There's a long pause. Kame's eyes get younger, his face softens. 

“Yeah,” he says. It's long, and it's weary. But it's a start.


End file.
